Page 84 of Sour Lollipops and Sweet Nightmares
“Ah, but physical records erode.” Ravi pointed out. “We only know what didn’t vanish.”
While that was a valid argument, and I might be slightly impressed with that, he did not belong here. Neither did Levi nor Slater.
“So, your argument is that we’re guessing that the facts are the facts?” What kind of argument was that?
Ravi lifted his shoulder in a shrug. “People trick themselves into thinking shit is real all the time.”
My eyes narrowed. What did he mean by that? Did he know something? Maybe Ravi wrote on my mirror? They were trying to make me think I was crazy. That was it, wasn’t it?
“That’s because some people refuse to listen to logic.” I shot back at him. “For instance, pepper spray doesn’t burn because you think it will.”
I’d happily remind him of that little fact with the can I had in my bag.
“The question isn’t whether it’s real.”
My entire body froze at the sound of that voice.
The person behind Ravi sat up and shifted forward, bringing a pair of turquoise eyes into view.
Issac.
“The question…” he continued while staring directly at me. “Iswhodecides which version gets remembered?”
Why did that feel like a threat? “There is no who when it comes to sentiment.”
“Oh, there’s always a who, Peaches. Haven’t you heard…” the slightest smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “History is written by the victor.”
“That saying only applies to war, and this subject has nothing to do with war.”
Issac’s eyes narrowed on me. “I’d be careful if I were you. The hardest war to win is the one you don’t know you’re fighting.”
That was definitely a challenge. For what, I didn’t know. But there was no doubt in my mind that I wouldn’t like it.
Georgia
Renfrew’s library shamed every other library I’d been to. Hell, its grand stone walls and columns put most of the buildings I’d seen to shame, including the others on this campus.
According to the guidebook that came in my welcome package, the library was a church in the nineteenth century, which explained the angelic stained-glass windows located at the front of the building. However, I did question what kind of church depicted angels on bloody battlefields.
Other things didn’t seem quite right. The vaulted ceilings, wood paneling on the walls, and fancy crown molding, those were standard. But the gothic-styled iron chandeliers and gargoyles perched on the roof above the door didn’t give off much of a holy vibe. Neither did the red maple tree growing in the middle of the library. That thing creeped me out.
I don’t know if it was because it was fall and the leaves were turning red, or if it was the way it almost seemed to loom over the center of the library that I didn’t like. There was something about that tree that felt unnatural, and that wasn’t my paranoia talking. Any place that had two entire floors restricted to the general public had something to hide.
“Why are you taking physics?” Rachel tapped one of the textbooks I had on the table. “Isn’t your major geology?”
“Yes.”
My answer seemed to confuse her more. “Shouldn’t you be reading books on rocks and gems and stuff?”
Really? There was more to geology than rocks and gems. “I’m focused more on the volcanic and tectonic activity part of geology.”
“What does music have to do with volcanoes?”
Now I was confused. “What?”
“You said tectonic. Isn’t that the music they play at raves?”
Wow.
